


I'll throw away my faith just to keep you safe

by BlueRacoonSoul



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels are Dicks, Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, BAMF Castiel, Brotherly Love, Castiel in danger, Castiel's Halo, Dean in Denial, Emotional Constipation, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Guardian Angels, Idiots in Love, Jealous Dean Winchester, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Possessive Castiel, Possessive Dean, Protective Balthazar, Protective Dean Winchester, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:25:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRacoonSoul/pseuds/BlueRacoonSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This a story about two brothers who share an eventful, but sorrowful past and a fallen angel, whose disobedience saved the world. It’s a story about fear, misunderstanding and kissing, seasoned with troubles, asshole angels and a river of alcohol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

What the hell was _that_ supposed to be?

Last time Dean checked, Balthazar was dead and if he was being honest with himself, he wished it had stayed this way. He never liked the guy, though he could never actually fathom why. Dean guessed he just didn’t like his weird way of being, his manners, annoying accent and not to mention his ridiculous V-neck. Yes, the more Dean thought about it, the more sense it made – the V-neck definitely tipped the “like-or-do-not-like” scale. Well, he might slightly dislike his ludicrous bond with Castiel, but in Dean’s defence, their brotherly bond was definitely weird and way too touchy.

Speaking of which.

Dean couldn’t believe his eyes when he struggled up to his feet, fighting the dust and chocking ashes swirling in the air, only to find Balthazar standing in the middle of the chamber with a small piece of rock in his hand, the smug “surprise-bitches-I-am-alive-and-I-just-saved-your-asses” expression smeared all over his stupid face. His stormy blue eyes twitched and moved from Dean to find Cas, who was still laying on the floor, clearly unable to make sense of what just happened. The hunter’s insides twisted when he saw Balthazar’s face soften, watching Cas like he was the only thing in the entire world. Like he forgot that Castiel was the one who shoved an angel blade all the way through Balthazar’s vessel. He was supposed to be furious, revengeful and yelling at Cas and not staring at him lovingly, with stupid longing and happiness radiating from his stupid face. This was not how brothers were supposed to look at each other, goddammit.  
  
Balthazar stretched out his hand, helping Castiel to stand up on his feet, and Dean was hoping that they would start arguing now, but apparently nothing in this world would make the blonde angel hate the other one. Dean grimaced and pretended that he didn’t see the range of emotions going through Castiel’s face: the surprise when he first laid his eyes on Balthazar; the relief when his mind caught up with the fact that he was still alive and finally the overwhelming guilt when Cas realized that Balthazar shouldn’t be alive in the first place because of him.

The second Castiel jumped up and wrapped his arms around Balthazar’s neck with a litany of apologies spilling out of his mouth was the exact same second Sam decided to waltz into the chamber, probably worried because he didn’t hear Dean’s signal. His sharp eyes scanned the unexpected scenery – one fried corpse laying in the middle of the floor, Dean and his green eyes shooting daggers and two other people hugging on the opposite side of the room. Sam narrowed his brows, clearly trying to make any sense out of this, and because Dean was more than happy to have someone he could turn his attention to, he hurried with an explanation.

“Long story short: Not a witch, witch-killing spell didn’t work, so I didn’t send you a signal, this thing went nuts and - “ He paused for a moment, swallowing the bitterness out of his tongue. “- Balthazar is alive and apparently knows how to kill this thing.” Sam’s gaze moved from his brother, slid down to the burned remaining of whatever-this-creature was and moved further to Castiel and Balthazar, who were now separated, but still stealing glances at each other. Understanding appeared Sam’s face and he smiled cautiously at his brother, who was currently using all his will power to pretend that he didn’t care about these two at all, before he turned his attention to the newly-arrived angel.

“This thing was a demon from ancient Slavic beliefs called Aerico. It’s natural that you confused it with a witch, because it brings diseases such as malaria or other disgusting plagues.” Balthazar explained, showing them a bright blue crystal resting on his palm. “It dies when exposed to cavansite, which burns its skin and insides.”

“Well, I guess we are lucky that you watch over us. Not like there’s anything weird about the fact you were presumed dead for the last 5 years, but apparently walk around fully healthy, carrying a piece of rock that kills this Rico-whatever and find us in the exact moment we need it.” Dean barked out, not being able to hold himself any longer. Not when the prick was currently pretending to be the hero of the day, standing protectively in front of Castiel, like he needed to be shielded. 

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Not true, true, not true and true again.” He said playfully, in his usual careless tone and a side-smirk. “I was dead, but I was brought back again. I don’t carry a cavansite in my pocket, it needed to be retrieved from India, which is why I’m a bit late to the party. And I’m not watching over _you_ , I am watching over Castiel.”  
Dean didn’t know what made him more angry: the last statement or the fact that Cas didn’t seem to be surprised by it; the angel, _his angel_ , just stood there, a small smile blooming on his lips, like it was a matter of fact he knew for centuries. It caused the monster living in Dean’s stomach to roar with rage and sorrow, but he forced himself to calm down. _Brothers._ He was always looking after Sammy too, right?

“Nice to see you again, but… do you know why you were brought back? Was it only because of this?” Sam asked, waving his hand at the demon and trying not to sound as rude as his older brother, who was now clenching his jaws so hard that Sam could hear his teeth grinding. Castiel shifted at the question, like he was hit by a sudden thought and got closer to the black-fried mess that spread filth and viruses all over the town only few hours ago, investigating it.

“Of course not. I’ve been back for weeks. It just wasn’t necessary to intervene until now.” Balthazar shrugged, like it wasn’t strange at all. Apparently, it wasn’t; at least not to Castiel, who could be at least a little but upset by the fact that his best friend was alive for weeks and didn’t bother to show himself, but he was now poking the demon corpse with the tip of his angel blade, like he was looking for something. Dean shifted closer, casually standing between Castiel and Balthazar.

Sam took a deep breath and massaged his temples. None of this made sense and he knew that it all wasn’t over just yet, because they were missing too many pieces. They were researching this case for days and every little evidence or clue were clearly pointing at a witch, and not at a demon from ancient Slavic beliefs. Despite a wide range of victims, not the entire town was suffering from diseases, but individuals who were not connected to each other. They found hex bags in the victims’ houses and Cas didn’t sense any demon presence anywhere nearby. He was now positive that it wasn’t a witch, since they didn’t usually burn to death because of a little blue rock from India, but it didn’t explain what was an ancient demon from Central Europe doing in North Platte, Nebraska. He sighed when he realized what it meant: three hour’s drive back to the Bunker and another few hours of research, which he was probably going to do alone, because Dean was now having an angry staring contest with the blonde angel. Sam could only assume that his brother will spend the rest of the day acting like a betrayed lover, making salty comments about Balthazar, but simultaneously denying any kind of feelings towards the black haired angel. _Awesome. Must be Thursday._

Castiel suddenly let out a triumphant sound and lifted his angel blade up from the burned body. A small gold ring was hanging on the top of it, a ring that neither Sam nor Dean recognized, but was apparently very important to Castiel and Balthazar, who was now staring at the piece of jewellery with a terrified expression on his face.  
Sam and Dean stepped forward, both wanting to have a better look and they noticed small letters forming a sentence in an ancient language.

“Is this… Enochian? What is this, Cas?” Dean asked, pointing at the ring and watching the angel’s face with anticipation. Sam was sure Dean was now worried, all traces of his previous anger disappeared. If the younger Winchester was being honest, he was pretty much worried too – he didn’t like cases that didn’t make sense and old acquaintance coming back from the dead in the middle of these unexplained events.

“This is what makes an angel welcomed in Heaven” Castiel said, taking the metal in between his long fingers and lifting it up to watch it more closely. An unfamiliar melancholy appeared in the angel’s sapphire eyes. “This is how you knew I needed assistance, Balthazar.” Dean’s jaws clenched again, but he tried not to look too bothered by it, though Sam could see a growing annoyance appearing on his face at Castiel’s typical enigmatic explanation.

“Yeah, well, would like to elaborate?” Dean asked, darting his eyes from the ring to meet his eyes.

“I threw it away a couple of years ago, when I decided to help two brothers to stop an ancient divine plan from wiping out all the living being from this Earth.” Castiel stated, smiling softly at the memory. Sam felt an unpleasant cramp in his stomach, the one he usually got when he knew something bad was about to happen. A common sense you could say.

Castiel let the ring lay flat on his palm, Enochian letters actually shining despite the darkness of the room.

 

“This is my halo.”


	2. Hello trouble, my old friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam struggles to make any sense out of an unexpected event; the angels are enigmatic as usual and Dean does his best to hide his raging jealousy. 
> 
> Then comes the trouble.

Silence that filled the entire old graveyard crypt around them was one of the heaviest stillness the Winchesters have ever experienced, including awkward silences that followed every single family drama centuries ago when John was still alive. It seemed to clog the oxygen, leaving nothing but dust and smell of the graveyard dirt to breathe with. It filled up their lungs and poisoned them with a familiar feeling of anxious anticipation. Nothing made sense and Dean was certain that it will turn their lives to hell again, which sadly wasn’t anything unusual, but Castiel’s cold sober face was telling him that this was different.  
Questions exploded in Dean’s head like fireworks and he couldn’t decide what answer he should demand first, so he compressed them all into one: 

“What the hell are you talking about?!” 

He shouted and the anger in his voice cut the silence like a sharp knife. Suddenly all his senses came back to him all at once, making him feel hyper aware about pretty much everything. He could now hear his voice floating up above their heads, reaching out to every dusted spider’s web, shaking its locators out of their slumber. He could feel his skin crawl at the mix of emotions that were currently circulating around his body: he was mostly angry with this preposterous situation, but also worried and, well, _jealous_. As much as he hated to admit it, it was the only proper word that could describe his antipathy towards Balthazar. 

Castiel sighed and lifted his gaze, locking his eyes with Winchester’s green ones. Dean always suspected that these two sapphires were able to look directly into his soul, watching his emotions blasting in ungovernable waves and being able to calm this storm with a single blink of his eyelids. Whether it was his angelic juice or just Castiel himself, Dean would never know, but it worked every time. He felt warmth radiating pleasantly from his chest, successfully washing away every negative thought out of his mind. He tried again. 

“Cas, how can this ring be your halo and what was it doing in this demon’s bowels?” He asked, his tone softer and more patient this time. He was rewarded with a small, but sincere smile from the angel, which Dean knew was reserved only for him. Not that he cared much about angelic smiles that were only his, but just for the record. He jerked and looked around; a force of habit he developed once he started catching himself thinking about Cas way more often than he was willing to admit.  
Behind his back, Sam rolled his eyes all the way back to his skull. 

“An angel’s halo is a part of his grace that is usually surrounding his true form in Heaven. It is a kind of protection, like some sort of magnetic field, but it enables other angels to sense him as well, so it also works like an angelic radar.” Castiel said, his gaze focused on the ring again. Despite being pulled out from a fried corpse which wasn’t just desiccated like it should be, but looked a lot like liquid tar, the ring was flawlessly shiny. Dean was sure that Cas didn’t need to clean it, because the metal seemed to repel any kind of dirt and filth. 

“Once an angel enters a vessel, he can choose to either hide his halo from human eyes, pretty much in the same way we hide our wings, or he can choose to transform it into any kind of physical object, like a token or amulet. It looks completely normal to a human eye, but the spell engraves the angel’s name on amulet’s surface, which makes it possible for any other celestial being to sense his location. It works like a reversed sigil.” Castiel finished and nodded at Balthazar, who was now propped up against the entrance arch with a bored expression on his face. Dean noticed a long neck-chain, whose pendant was hidden underneath the angel’s grey t-shirt. 

It was now Sam’s turn to ask questions, since Dean was obviously taken aback by the fact that angels could transform their halos into pieces of jewellery. 

“Okay, so you shrunk your halo into a ring when you entered Jimmy’s vessel, and then what? You just threw it away? Why?” Sam knew he was urging the answers in a very grumpy tone, but his head was already spinning and he wasn’t getting any closer to understand what just happened, which was slowly starting to annoy him. Sam was an organized man, who despite his rampageous lifestyle liked to pull his thoughts and reflections together in order to form a logical solution. It was an impossible task today; small scraps of information were swimming around his mind, annoyingly disconnected, like each part came from a whole other universe. Due to the raw surrealism of this absurd situation, he would normally assume he was just dreaming, but a quick pinch on his hand proved otherwise. 

“I was afraid my halo would betray my location when I was with you and Dean. The angels couldn’t track you, but they could easily find me. Detaching my halo from the rest of my grace confused their senses, which in the end kept Zachariah away from you.” Castiel said, his eyes darting from Sam to Dean, who was now staring back at him with a soft expression on his face, which he probably wasn’t aware of. Sam rolled his eyes once again, because he really wasn’t in a mood to deal with their mawkish, lovesick stare contest. He turned around to pick up a shotgun from the floor, trying not to look at the black mass congealing slowly beside him, because it caused his darkest memories to crawl back from the deepest nook of his mind.

“Will you two stop undressing each other with your eyes and maybe focus on getting out of here?” Balthazar’s voice suddenly reverberated in the crypt. Sam lifted his gaze from their green military bag with a small amused smile creeping on his face. He wasn’t exactly a great fan of Balthazar, but he voiced out aloud what he wanted to say himself – his brother and Cas could save their tender eye lovemaking for later, because they should probably find a safer place to talk. However, Sam just couldn’t wait to hear Dean’s response, whose burning jealousy was probably causing droughts in California. He knew his brother was only pretending not to be mad about Balthazar anymore, saving his grumbling for their ride home, but Balthazar had made a mistake – he dared to speak.  
Even in a situation like this it was utterly amusing to watch his older brother, always so proud and confident, going crazy because he felt his position being threatened. He wasn’t disappointed; when Dean took a step forward, the air became dense with his rage, and if Sam’s eyesight wasn’t lying to him, he saw the small pout forming on the hunter’s mouth.

“What is it up to you? Your brother is staying with us anyway, so if you’re in a hurry I can show you the exit gate.” Dean said in his deepest, most serious tone, making sure to make it perfectly clear that Balthazar wasn’t welcomed here and he could as well vanish for another couple of years. The angel was staring at him defiantly, arms crossed on his chest, before he narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, in the same way Cas did. Dean grinded his teeth. 

“First of all: Castiel isn’t my brother. Secondly: Whoever sent you here was hoping to capture you, dumbass, and he will most definitely come back. Now given that only fifteen minutes ago none of you had any idea what you were dealing with, staying here would most definitely end as chapter one in the Winchester’s Great Book of Imbecility.” Balthazar said and the sarcasm in his voice made the hunters face twitch. The older angel looked like he wanted to add something, but he turned his head and threw a cautious glance somewhere behind his back. Dean wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. 

_They are not brothers_. He always suspected that not all angels were – in his human comprehension - related, because they could easily kill each other without batting an eyelid, but he chose to believe in it anyway. Dean knew Cas was in pain every time he mentioned Heaven or the angels, he knew he missed his family and wanted to fix the damage he had made, but he was too scared that one day it might actually happen and Cas would want to come back where he belonged. He felt terrible for this, but he was glad that the angel was banned from Heaven and had to stay with them – with _him_ – in the Bunker. Castiel made this place feel less empty and a lot warmer. Now he was probably going to lose this little touch of a home he had established, because now Cas might want to leave off with Balthazar, whom he had known for centuries and whom had never let him down. This bitter realization felt like a bucket of icy water being poured over his head. 

Dean’s train of thought was interrupted by a high-pitched noise buzzing uncomfortably in his ears. The entire crypt started to shake violently and Dean could see a blinding white light growing around them with every second, but before he could turn around to grab Sam and hurry out from there, he felt a strong grip on his left shoulder, holding him steady in place and he understood what Cas was about to do. 

Dean closed his eyes and felt a familiar, but most definitely unwelcomed yank somewhere near his navel and he knew Cas wings were currently flapping in the air with inexplicable speed and force. He felt the clouds swirling around him and an unpleasant hypnic jerk caused by the endless falling sensation that always accompanied every flight with the angel. Or every flight in general. He genuinely hated flying, regardless the mean of transport, because he always felt sick, weak and pathetic afterwards, so Cas stopped zapping him around when it was unnecessary. In fact, he stopped zapping him completely, and Dean was grateful for that. He could just gladly stick to his Baby, even if it took forever to drive between three states in order to gang one vengeful spirit. 

However, the flight felt different time. It took Dean a while before he realized that the angel wrapped his entire arm across Dean’s ribcage, pulling the hunter closer to his own body. Dean felt a warm hand on his left deltoid and he almost cried out loud at the familiarity of this simple, but meaningful gesture. The touch caused his heart to race up, his skin burned and his head swam, partly because of the flight itself, but mostly because a freaking angel, _his angel_ , kept him protectively close to his body. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, but it felt so incredibly good that Dean was for once thankful for a slowed timeline during the ride, which he usually considered twisted beyond human comprehension. He hated this, because a flight with an angel always looked like it lasted for less than a second, but those who actually experienced it knew it felt enormously, unnaturally long. This time he blessed this phenomena, because it meant that he was able to memorize every little detail of Castiel pressing him to his own body. 

When Dean opened his eyes again, the idyllic dreamy spirit disappeared almost immediately and was replaced by unpleasant nervousness. Sam was standing right beside him, slightly bewildered by the sudden landing, but Castiel was sprawled on the road, his arms and legs spread out in every direction. He was dreadfully pale and when Dean came closer to help him on his feet, he saw a trickle of fresh blood dripping out from Cas’ nose. Before he could say anything, he heard a flutter of wings behind him. 

“You have to run, they can’t find him here!” Balthazar yelled and run up to them, grabbing Cas’ arm and forcing him on his feet. Dean felt a panicky confusion speeding up his heartbeat, but he obeyed and together they pulled Cas up from the ground. Dean might not like Balthazar, but when it came to Castiel’s safety, he would rather listen and cooperate than risk anything bad happening to the angel. Sam yanked the car keys out of his pocket and opened Impala’s backdoor, so they could lay almost unconscious man down on the backseat. 

“Who can’t find him here?” Dean asked without taking his eyes from Castiel, who was looking back at him with hooded eyes. He felt his heart clench a little too hard to blame it on simple worry, but he had no time to reflect about it. 

“Bloody Raphael and his Merry Men.” Balthazar answered, causing Dean to hit his head on the car door frame. 

“But I thought Cas killed him?” 

“Not well enough as you can see, but I don’t think Raphael liked the effort.” Balthazar barked, looking nervously around. “You want to stay and ask him personally?” 

Dean took the hint and run around the car to jump in front of the steering wheel. Years on the road and his very unique career path allowed him to perfect dramatic departures, and thanks to his muscle memory and practiced driving skills he could partly navigate the car out of the cemetery in almost no time and simultaneously twist his body in order to watch Cas, who looked like he fought against unconsciousness with every bit of his strength. 

“Cas, you okay? What happened? Hang in there man, I’ll drive you back home as fast as I can” Dean repeated himself over and over again, not being able to shut his mouth. Sam watched them in silence, occasionally reaching out his hand to grab the wheel and steady the car when Dean’s body twisted a bit too much around his seat, causing Impala to descend on the opposite traffic lane. He would normally yell at Dean to concentrate on the road, but he had no heart to do so. He was pretty much worried about Cas too, mostly because of an Archangel arranging a hunt on him, but also because he knew Castiel wasn’t supposed to fade out like this after zapping them out of a building. It must be something about the ring that had weaken Cas’ powers, perhaps the spell he used to turn his halo into a piece of metal started to malfunction when the ring sensed the grace presence? 

Sam sighed silently. He just knew it. The second he saw Balthazar in the crypt, he knew something bad was about to happen, because people weren’t just brought back to life without any consequences or something bigger being at their heels. Whatever it was about, they had to figure out why did Castiel’s grace malfunction and how get him off of Raphael’s radar.

He peeked into the rear-view mirror and let the corners of his mouth twitch slightly upwards when he saw Dean’s hand clasped around Cas’ forearm and the angel, now fallen asleep because of the exhaustion, holding onto Dean’s jacket for dear life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I am sorry it took so long to write the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> 2\. I know, I know - Cas is in pain again, but I promise I will make it up to him. I'm not a SPN writer and I have an entire plan for Cas. I promise. 
> 
> 3\. If you find any mistakes or simply want to share your opinion, you are more than welcome to do so. It means a lot.


	3. Feelings and other monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean struggles with his feelings, Sam is a typical younger sibling and Cas is... well, Cas.
> 
> I might or might not love slow builds. Forgive me.

The drive back home wasn’t exactly the most comfortable trip Sam has ever experienced, but he survived worse escapades. Castiel seemed to be slowly regaining his strength, although he was still sleeping silently on the backseat. After a couple of miles Dean finally let go of his wrist, gluing his hands to the wheel, eyes never leaving the road in front of him. He obviously tried to look like he was focusing on driving, so they didn’t end up crashing on a tree, but Sam knew him better than that. It was Dean’s wordless way of saying “Drop it, Sammy”, which he, as an annoying younger sibling, naturally was going to ignore. 

“Look, Dean, it’s not like Raphael can find him in the Bunker, we have guarded the place in every way imaginable. Cas is the only angel who can enter, because he knows the location.” He said, knowing exactly that it wasn’t his brother’s problem at the moment. Years of experience had taught Sam not to drop a bomb at his brother right away, but to provoke him to tell the real issue himself. It was an effective method, time-consuming sometimes, but in the end he was always able to extract an answer from his stubborn older brother. Sam smiled triumphantly when he saw Dean twitching and moving his head to the left, glancing at the night’s dark nothingness behind the window. 

“I know.” Dean barked out before he could bite his tongue. He was expecting Sam to start a touchy-feely conversation any minute, but given that he sat with his mouth shut for almost two hours, he was hoping to live this one out. Apparently, he wasn’t just that lucky, which shouldn’t be surprising at all, but it’s not he was going to make it any easier for Sam to get him to talk. 

“Then stop acting like Cas just got a death sentence. We’ll figure it out.” Sam said, knowing exactly what he just stepped into. He could almost sense Dean’s blood starting to boil, because they both knew that an Archangel hunting on their best friend wasn’t exactly a nice summer break, but then again, it wasn’t an apocalypse either.  
“’We’ll figure it out’? Do you even hear yourself?” Dean hissed quietly, glancing in the mirror to make sure Cas is still asleep. “Cas literally blacked out after zapping us out of there, it was not supposed to happen and you know it.”  
“Yeah, well, I guess his grace faded a little because of…”  
“Of his halo. He blacked out because of his own halo, which happens to be a part of his own grace. I don’t know, it should make him stronger or something, right? Not make him bleed and fall unconsciously on the ground.” Dean couldn’t hide the concern in his voice. He heard Cas shifting in place and his head automatically turned around to glance at him, but the angel’s eyes were still closed, his face relaxed. Dean felt Sam’s gaze on him, so he did his best to casually sit back in his seat without looking at his brother, who snorted audibly, annoyed with Dean’s inability to even acknowledge his own feelings.  
“It’s some old Enochian magic, it probably works crazily, like everything up there. If the ring was a real threat to Cas, Balthazar would take care of it.” There. He just planted a bomb and was now waiting for the explosion that was inevitably coming.

However, after a few silent seconds, Sam turned his head to the left and was startled to see the actual pain on his brother’s face. Dean finally looked at him, eyes full of sadness and defeat, and Sam regretted mentioning the other angel’s name. He was only trying to get Dean to realize what he actually felt, but apparently Dean wasn’t coping well with a thought of losing Cas to anyone before he came to terms with his emotions. It was a much more complex issue than he originally thought, and Sam wished these two idiots would just sit down and talk about this, but he knew it wouldn’t happen anytime soon. He sighed and turned his face away from Dean, giving him a chance to regain control of his emotions before they arrived back at the Bunker. 

 

*** 

Dean watched how the yellowish liquid poured itself slowly through its bottleneck right into a small whiskey glass. He never actually bothered to use any kind of glass while drinking alcohol; he was used to drink much cheaper, and therefore much worse tasting booze, but this one was found in Men of Letter’s impressive alcohol inventory and Dean could therefore assume that the liquor’s quality required a proper etiquette. He corked the bottle and put it back in the cabinet, but after a second thought, he pulled it out again and brought it over to the coffee table along with his drink. 

They arrived at the Bunker a couple of hours ago: Cas woke up just in time to move his sleepy ass out of the car and throw himself on the bed in a spare bedroom right beside Dean’s. Sam followed a few seconds later, only stopping to tell Dean that they will start on the research tomorrow. Dean waved dismissively at him, doing his best to look like he just couldn’t wait to watch the latest Game of Thrones episode, but the truth was he didn’t even intent to turn the TV on. He was just lying on the coach, staring at the ceiling and moved only to find a new bottle of booze when he finished his last beer. He knew he should soon move to his own bedroom to avoid Sam’s judging bitchface, but he felt slightly dizzy and decided to lay there a little bit longer. Going to his bedroom meant walking past Cas’ door and Dean wasn’t sure if he could handle this peacefully.

He was sad… and angry. Not Mark-of-Cain-Angry, but still pretty much pissed and the worst part was that he couldn’t tell why he was so goddamn mad. Everything went wrong today and he felt like crap for no particular reason, and the mere thought of Cas made him feel… well, everything at once. He wasn’t good at classifying and dealing with his own emotions, but he knew pain and suffering, and he knew how to hide them. This, however, was much different because it wasn’t just a simple pain he was used to; it felt bitter like lose and rejection; like longing and wanting something he could never have; like missing an opportunity and watching someone else claiming the price for himself. Dean knew Balthazar’s spectacular comeback was the source of all these chick-flick feelings, but he was also angry with Cas. He was angry that Cas threw himself in the other angel’s arms like he was doing this his entire life; he was angry because Cas never hugged him like this, even in Purgatory. He was angry because Cas _smiled_ when he heard that Balthazar was watching over him, like he needed to be protected from Dean. The older Winchester always assumed that Castiel knew how important he was to him, but apparently he either didn’t care or simply didn’t notice.  
It felt like a knife cutting right through his heart, and it only made him even angrier, because he hated himself for being like this. For acknowledging his feelings yet hiding them, pretending that they are not really there; for wanting Cas like nothing in the world, but not doing anything about it; for wanting to claim the angel as his, but denying it; for being angry when someone took the chance and even more angry because Cas didn’t act like he didn’t want to have a thing with someone else. 

Sometimes, Dean would daydream about how it would be if he wasn’t such a coward. He wondered how it would be to hold Cas in his arms during the night; to watch his chest rise and fall in his sleep; to watch him slowly waking up in the morning; to make him a breakfast and take him out to dinner; to hold his hand; to kiss him; to cuddle him; to argue with him like every couple do; to make love under the stars during warm August nights; to openly love him until the end of his days, and he was lucky enough, to love him forever in the afterlife. Sometimes, Cas would do _something_ , consciously or not, that would leave the older Winchester in an absolutely disgusting love-sick state for the rest of the day, like today during the flight. Dean daydreamt about all these simple little things every single time he looked at the angel; he would lose himself in his own thoughts before a cold realisation hit him like it always did: He couldn’t have him. Cas was a dude, Dean wasn’t supposed to fall in love with dudes. Actually, Dean wasn’t supposed to fall in love at all – it just wasn’t something he could have. It would either turn out to be too dangerous or he would end up with a heartbreak. Dean found it ironic that he suffered _for years_ of a broken heart over a girl named Cassie only to continue suffering because of an angel named Cas. 

Dean poured himself another drink, trying to calm his emotions before he broke down completely. _Just a few more sips and off to bed_ , he told himself as he held his head in his hands, noting that they started to shake dangerously. He wished, yet again, that he couldn’t feel anything; that he didn’t feel this desire, fear, jealousy, anger, hope and frustration that were now mercilessly torturing him. 

“If I didn’t know you better, Dean, I would assume that you are not going to your own room because you don’t want to meet me in the hallway.” A familiar deep voice said, making him jump in surprise.  
“You know this is not true, Cas.” Dean answered, maybe a little bitterly, but truthfully. No matter how much he struggled with his feelings towards the angel, he simply couldn’t bring himself to avoid Cas. Being around him was probably the only thing that still kept him sane. However, he knew Cas would make him talk, because in some magical way he always could even when Sammy capitulated, and Dean wasn’t in a mood to talk about pretty much anything right now.  
  
The shorter man sat down on the coach beside Dean, his blue eyes never leaving him. Dean wished he listened to himself and moved to his room when he first thought about it, so he could continue staring blankly at the ceiling from his own bed. He sighed and moved his eyes from the empty glass in his hand to meet Castiel’s, and it made Dean’s stomach cramp in fear when he saw how red his eyes were. Cas must have noticed the surprise on his face, because he smiled softly.  
  
“I’m okay, Dean. The ring senses my grace and it wants me to put it back together, so it tries to physically force me to reverse the spell. It should adapt in a couple of hours.” He explained and glanced shortly at Dean, who probably looked like a confused child, because Cas chuckled and added: “I know I look like I’m about to die, but I’m really fine. My grace just needs to… readjust to my halo’s presence, I will be alright.”  
  
“Is this why you knocked out after zapping us out of the crypt?” Dean asked, watching the other man play with the golden ring. He could feel the drunkenness and tiredness creeping up in him, but he was glad to have at least one of his concerns resolved. He smiled and Cas smiled back.  
  
“Yes. I… “ Cas paused, not sure if he should continue, but eventually, he shook his head: “I could ask Balthazar to fly one of you out, but I wanted to make sure you were both safe.” Cas said, now avoiding his eyes, and Dean’s heart trembled with hope. It meant that he still cared about him (and Sammy, of course) more than about Balthazar. Dean could feel all his previous anger disappear, filling him up with hope and affection. He felt dizzy again, partly because of all the alcohol he drank, but mostly because a small, shy smile that Cas sent his way. He smiled back so hard his cheeks hurt.

“How about... I walk you to your bedroom so you can get your four hours? You should probably get some rest before Sam wakes up.” Cas said standing up and dragging him along. Dean stood up fast, not wanting to risk a situation in which Cas manhandled him, but he failed miserably at keeping a vertical position and ended up exactly where he tried to avoid ending up – in Cas’ arms, who was now staring at him with concern written all over his bloodshot eyes. Dean swallowed audibly, physically not being able to look away, getting high of the precious calmness of Cas’ heartbeat underneath his palms. His mind was telling him – no, it was yelling at him to back out, to play it off as a joke or to blame it on the drunkenness, but his insides just _ached_ with want. Every inch of his body wanted to shift closer and close the gap between them, because the closeness of their lips was driving him mad, but instead of just doing it, he froze midways, torn between his mind and heart.  
Cas blinked a couple of times before he took a step back and helped him to stand on his own feet. Dean almost cried out at the sudden absence of the angel’s warm embrace, who didn’t even seem to notice that small tender moment between them only seconds before. _Of course he didn’t. He doesn’t have this kind of thoughts about you._ The hunter sighed deeply before turning around and leaving the room without saying a single word. 

While Dean fell asleep almost immediately because of an unhuman alcohol percentage circulating in his veins, a certain angel of the lord kept staring sadly at the doorframe in which the older Winchester disappeared, a golden ring almost burning his skin. 

_If he only knew._


	4. Love and... love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Free will and how to use it", a book by Castiel, an angel of the Lord.

Castiel was slowly growing more and more annoyed. 

Hours went by and Dean Winchester insolently kept ignoring him, like the events from the previous night never really happened and there was nothing to talk about. In the beginning Cas would understand it – after all, their last interaction ended up in an awkward and very close contact, of which he knew Dean didn’t approve, so he gave him the space he thought Dean needed. Yet hours became days and the hunter acted like the angel didn’t even reside the same galaxy, let alone the same building. 

It started with small, but noticeable to Castiel things: Dean usually poured him a cup of coffee, black and extra sweet, along with his own every single morning. He always said it was because Castiel was a real disaster in the kitchen and that he wouldn’t let him touch his precious coffee machine, but Cas knew better – it was Dean Winchester’s silent way of saying “Shut up, I care about you”. However, the morning after the unfortunate hunt crowned with Raphael as a cherry topping, Dean was sipping his coffee at the table, not even bothering to greet Castiel as he walked into the kitchen. Cas felt a little sting in his heart, but he said “good morning” and smiled at Sam with the most cheerful tone he could force and turned his attention to the coffee machine. By the time he finished stirring his drink and went back to the table, Sam just smiled at him apologetically, because Dean obviously grew a pair of angel wings during the night and simply vanished. His abandoned mug was still steaming.

Dean kept avoiding him for the rest of the day, awkwardly trying not to make even one slightest eye contact with the angel. Castiel was almost burning with concern and curiosity about the older Winchester’s sudden odd shenanigans, but he promised him a long time ago to not read his mind or sense his emotions (unless on a hunt and/or in danger), so he restrained the urge to just pull the answers out from Dean’s usually widely open heart and mind. It wasn’t an easy task considering the hunter’s behaviour; Dean would storm out of the room in an unprecedented speed every time Cas walked into the same room and pretended he didn’t hear Cas’ voice echoing after him. 

Castiel tried to ignore the unpleasant aching in his chest and buried himself in books in the Bunker’s library; the only place he was sure he wouldn’t bother Dean, because he simply didn’t read anything unnecessarily. However, Sam was the one who kept him company and Cas enjoyed every single minute of it. They started on a research about Raphael, but apparently, no angel had ever manifested himself to any Man of Letter, so their resources were limited to the Bible, Pentateuch and Kabala, which unsurprisingly didn’t contain any kind of information about how to tell an Archangel not to peel a fellow seraph out of his skin.  
Cas chose to ignore it and asked Sam about a book he would recommend him to read; the younger Winchester seemed to take the hint and stopped flipping through pages of some old, rotten book and started talking about something called The Hunger Games. 

Castiel listened with growing curiosity; the story sounded appealing and he was genuinely interested in reading the entire series, but he also enjoyed seeing Sam so relaxed. With a dose of sadness, he realized that he rarely saw the young man looking like this: at ease, talking with passion about life’s simplest of joys: reading. The Winchesters never had it easy; they shared familiar, yet so different stories, both unbearably tragic, but in some sense also beautiful. Castiel always thought it was mesmerizing how they both turned out to be; although they had two different personalities, the cores of their hearts and souls were the same. They both cared deeply about fellow humans (and sometimes angels, too), always putting others before their own good; all this pain and suffering only made them kinder than they originally were. Castiel could still remember how impressed he was when he first realized that even all the angels put together couldn’t be compared with the Winchesters. This is why he helped them stopping the Apocalypse; he realized that the only place full of love and kindness in all known realms was wherever these two boys were, slowly fixing this damaged world and expecting nothing in return. Cas stayed, because they healed him too, and he couldn’t possibly express how grateful he was. 

And he loved them both solemnly. 

It costed him a lot to acknowledge and accept his feelings; after all, he was an Angel of the Lord and he wasn’t supposed to feel emotions in the same manner as humans. He did, though; he loved them, and sometimes he wondered if the power of this feeling wasn’t stronger than his own grace. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for them; he rebelled and not only left his family, but always placed himself together with Sam and Dean against every celestial creature he used to call a brother or sister. Sometimes Castiel wondered if he did the right thing? Maybe he shouldn’t betray his own kind? Maybe he is not as much important to the Winchesters as they were to him? Maybe they will eventually abandon him, tell him to leave, and what then? He wasn’t welcomed in Heaven anymore; if he couldn’t stay with them, there was nowhere else he could go. Cas would lie if he said it didn’t bother him; actually, it scared him to death. Love was beautiful, he knew it, but he quickly learned how extremely painful it can be, too. And he wasn’t sure if he could cope with a heartbreak, not again.  
  
Castiel knew he loved them both, equally much, but it costed him a lot of time and energy to know how he loved them. He didn’t know how many shades of love there actually were until he felt them both at once and it overwhelmed him. In the beginning, he thought he had to choose between the Winchesters; to choose either Sam or Dean, to declare his loyalty to only one of them, like a proper guardian angel; naturally, he later realized how stupid it was.  
He couldn’t bring himself to choose Sam over Dean, but he felt guilty for not being there for the taller Winchester when he needed him. He then tried to ignore them both for a little while, or at least tried to stop himself from appearing every single time Dean had called him, but it was extremely difficult. Castiel missed Dean like a caged bird missed flying; being near him felt incredibly natural, and sometimes it was the only thing that made sense, even when it didn’t make any sense at all. Maybe he couldn’t understand the full spectrum of human emotions just yet; maybe he wasn’t familiar with all human customs or didn’t understand a lot of Dean’s pop- cultural references, but it didn’t matter, because just listening to him, his jokes and his voice singing old rock songs during long road trips seemed to put everything in one piece. Suddenly it didn’t matter if his wings were damaged, if every other angel in Heaven hated him, or if he didn’t even know if he was still an angel or maybe something else - Dean’s presence was enough to calm his newly discovered emotions and make him feel amazingly warm inside.  
  
It was confusing, because he never had a proper sibling bond before, since angels in their true forms didn’t have any blood or genes they could share. Sure, they all had one Father, but so did humans – that is, besides their biological parents, of course. However, meeting the Winchester brothers taught him that family didn’t end with blood and genetics, which in turn made him reflect about Gabriel and Balthazar. Perhaps he did have real brothers in Heaven? Not just fellow celestial beings who happened to be created in the exact same way and time, but actual, real brothers? The ones who always stood up for him and took care of him? How many beautiful things about Earth did Gabriel actually show him? How many times did Balthazar protect him in various battlefields? Castiel could only scream in grief upon realizing this shortly after their death. He could never possibly express his regret, not even in a million years, even now when Balthazar turned out to be well and alive, although refusing to manifest himself right away. Cas could only promise himself to do everything in his power to not make the same mistake with Sam Winchester.  
  
They talked about the Lord of the Rings series in hours, enjoying the simplicity of each other’s company and ignoring the nudging thought on the back of their heads that annoyingly kept reminding them about a certain Archangel creeping somewhere in a dark alley. They would probably keep on talking – and reading – for even longer, but Sam suddenly gasped and jumped up from his chair after glancing at the clock face.  
“Hey, Cas, it was really nice to talk to you, but… I’m… I have an appointment now and I, uhm, I better go.” He said and disappeared before Castiel could even open his mouth to respond. It was strange, he must admit, because Sam was usually a well-formulated man, but who was he to judge? He shrugged and turned yet another yellowish page of his book. 

Some minutes, or perhaps hours later, Castiel’s mind was wandering through the slopes of Erebor, ready to relive a fateful battle between five armies when he heard a soft rustle of clothing behind him. He turned his head and saw Dean standing in a door frame, struggling to look as much casual as possible, which of course didn’t work at all, but Cas would never tell him that. He did manage to catch the angel’s attention though – Dean was wearing one of Cas’ favourite shirts, the marine blue one paired with a dark t-shirt and a pair of dark ripped jeans. Castiel might not know a lot about fashion, but he knew when he liked something and Dean looked quite… well, arousing.  
“Sam drove off to Eileen. She’s in town and he wanted to… catch up with her.” He wiggled his eyebrows, but quickly called himself to order and continued: “And I thought it would be nice to, uh, you know… Watchamovieorsomething.” He finished, avoiding to look the angel in the eye for more than a nanosecond.  
Normally, Cas would gladly follow him to the living room to crash on their coach with a huge bowl of popcorn resting on his lap, since he liked both Dean and movies, but the hunter pretty much ignored him for the past few days and he wasn’t going to forgive him just yet. Dean might be stubborn, but Cas used to be storm and thunderbolts locked in a human body. He raised his eyebrow, acknowledging the offer and turned his attention to the book again.  
Suddenly the air became heavier and Cas started to regret he didn’t go for a walk earlier that day. He didn’t realize how vexed he was before Dean showed up, apparently trying to act like he didn’t just straight up disregard him without a single word of explanation. It simply hurt, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.  
  
“I’m sorry, okay?!” Dean suddenly yelled, and his voice seemed to set off a dynamite in Cas’ veins. His blood boiled with anger and soreness; he was furious and he felt oddly more powerful than he did in years. Before he knew what he was doing, Castiel stood up and took a step towards Dean, who was staring at him with a surprised expression. The nearest lamp flickered.  
“You’re sorry?” He boomed, locking his gaze with Dean’s startled green eyes. “What for, exactly? For ignoring me? For yelling at me every time something happens, like it’s my intention to put you two in danger?” Cas wasn’t shouting, nor throwing fists at Dean, but the hunter seemed to curl up anyway. It would normally melt the angel’s heart and he would immediately apologize, but not today. Dean tripped the scale, it was just too much and Cas have had enough.  
“If I knew this hunt would turn into such a mess, I wouldn’t go. I know you are probably worried that Raphael and the angels will try to harm you or your brother, and if you do not wish they find the Bunker’s location, I will…”  
“Don’t you even dare to finish that sentence.” Apparently, Dean reclaimed his voice and it was now his turn to take a step forward. They were now within an arm’s length from each other and Cas could smell his aftershave. Somehow it made him even angrier, as if the smell had personally offended him.  
“Then what do you want from me? You hate when I cause trouble and ign…”  
“I wasn’t… avoiding you because of Raphael! What would you even think that? Half of the world wants me or Sammy dead anyway, why would I be mad about one more douchebag?”  
“Then why…”  
“It’s Balthazar, alright? I just… I don’t like him.”  
  
It was just plaine ridiculous, Cas thought. It was unfair to punish him for his eventual disagreement with Balthazar. Besides, yes, the blonde man might be quite provoking sometimes, but he was still an angel, good at heart and mind. He stated it out loud and saw a Dean’s eyes flash with something unfamiliar.  
“Well if you like him better or something, you’re free to go then. I’m not holding you back.”  
“Of course you are not holding me back, you are not holding me at all! In the past couple of days I might just run away, and you wouldn’t even notice since you were too busy pretending I don’t exist!” Cas yelled, feeling satisfied when Dean shut his mouth, apparently startled, but his small victory didn’t last long; Dean soon was yelling back, never taking his eyes off of Cas’ face.  
“Well I’m sorry I can’t just stand him clinging to you like a freaking octopus, but when I do as much as lean closer to you, you just step back!”  
  
Cas finally understood what this was all about. He grabbed a fistful of Dean’s shirt and pushed him a few steps back, till the hunter was pinned against an old brick wall. He might not have much of his angelic juice, but it was still enough to hold Dean in place. Green eyes flashed with surprise, and perhaps curiosity, too. Cas would lie if he said he didn’t feel his own heart racing up, especially when their lips were so close they were almost touching and the damn aftershave was driving him crazy.  
“Never assume that you are less important than anyone else, Dean. I rebelled for you, I fell for you, and I would do this again.” He said, and let one of his hands wander down the other man’s torso, stopping at his hip and pining him harder to the wall. “I have been walking on Earth before, and I watched humans for centuries, but no one ever managed to make me do things I did for you.” Cas knew he had Dean’s full attention now – green eyes were flickering between his eyes and lips, and Castiel decided to push his luck a little. He moved his right leg from Dean’s side and placed it between the hunter’s. A quick, sharp inhale assured him he did the right thing.  
“And I want you to know that I didn’t pull back because I didn’t want you, but because you were drunk. Dean, you are all I ever wanted, and believe me, no angel, demon or other human could ever take your place.”  
  
Soft and soothing silence fell between them. None of them had anything else to say, but they were mutually enjoying the closeness of their bodies. Just a few moments ago, Castiel thought he would give up and press their lips together, but he was glad he didn’t. Not yet. Everything in its right place; they didn’t have to rush anything, because no one was going anywhere.  
Eventually, the man shifted a little and Cas loosened his grip, wanting to take a cautious step back, but before he could fully untangle their legs, Dean’s arms were around his waist and he was pulling the angel into a hug, resting his head on Cas’ shoulder, cheek to cheek.  
“You too, you know. Are important to me. I just… I need a little more time, ok?”  
“Of course, Dean. I’ll just wait here.” He felt Dean smiling, and he smiled too.  
“Then.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“The line goes: ‘I’ll just wait here, then.’ Don’t you remember?”  
“I do. You asked me not to change.”  
“I did.” Dean pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. He was smiling shyly, but sweetly and Cas found himself melting at the very sight of it. That was what Dean Winchester could do to him; he was definitely more dangerous than he gave himself credit for.  
  
“So… how about that movie?” The hunter asked, and Castiel wondered how could he even get angry at him in the first place.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it took ages to write, but I was suffering through math summer course which I needed in order to get accepted to my dream University. I got in :-)
> 
> Today's chapter is a gift to one of my readers, LoverAwekened, who motivated me to finally finish it.  
> Happy birthday, sweetie :-)


End file.
